lifeofawillow

so small

and insignificant

begging

for crumbs

of something

i

can never

have.

if it never rained again

and the joy just dried up

and the ground remained dry

beneath my too small feet,

and the sky in its artificial way

lit up my skin

till its veins lay bare

and my blood ran away

past the time that it needed

to be worthy of life

and all that is good..

-would i sit there alone?

-against dried out wood

-beneath wilted willow

-on empty ground

-with empty hands

-and empty heart

till the wind blew me over,

on that grave that i drew.

none of this makes any sense to me.

and so i listen to old music

and try to put together a puzzle.

maybe that will make sense to me

on a familiar background

with my clumsy self

just trying my best..

it’s not very much,

and it’s not very good,

but it’s all i have

right now

tell me you love me

i need to be loved

with all that is you

deep in me

with head held in hands

and love in my heart

and all that i thought

couldnt be…

i wish i could hear it

i wish i could have it

but wishes are just silent dreams

splashed into pond

with ripple beyond

as falling leaves

shatter in seams

if only i had something to say.

but all i can do is wrap myself up tight

and battle against the chill.

and if you never saw me again

would that one time really make a difference?

theres either an always

or theres a never was

at least thats how it is

in my little ant farm

here

in hell.

you tapped me on the shoulder again,

like a knife to my center

so sharp.

and never do i feel as alone

as i did right then.

and I held onto that piece

of pointless plastic

and let tears slide

and shoulders heave

and didn’t even try

to catch my breath.

cause what’s the point?

if i can’t catch me?

after all,

only you,

could ever do, that.